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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974210">The White Boar's Heirs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookWorm_22/pseuds/BookWorm_22'>BookWorm_22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>16th Century CE RPF, The Tudors (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate History, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:03:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookWorm_22/pseuds/BookWorm_22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>King Richard III of England left a bastard son - Sir John of Pontefract - after the Battle of Bosworth Field who disappeared from historical record but may have been executed with Perkin Warbeck and Edward Plantagenet Earl of Warwick. </p><p>Here, Sir John marries Anne Lovell and has six children before his death - the youngest of whom finds herself in the heart of the Tudor court under King Henry VIII's roving eye.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anne Boleyn/Henry VIII of England, Catherine of Aragon/Henry VIII of England, Henry VIII of England/Jane Seymour, Henry VIII of England/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1495-1509</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Many people would envy me. Many people have envied me. People with power are always targets of people wishing for power, and a woman with power is even more vulnerable. They will do anything in their power to bring you down. When that happens, all you are left with is broken dreams and overmighty enemies. But sometimes, just sometimes, you are able to come back, greater and more powerful than ever.</p><p>This is my story.</p><p>I was born Mistress Cecily Gloucester, the daughter of Sir John of Gloucester and his wife Anne Lovell. My paternal grandparents were Richard III Duke of Gloucester – the most hated man who had ever lived in England – and a mistress of his called Alice Haute. My maternal grandparents were Francis Lord Lovell – my other grandfather’s most loyal man – and his wife Anne FitzHugh. I was born on 22nd August 1495, ten years to the day of the death of my late grandfather Richard. As a young child I suppose I had a happy life. Father had escaped much retribution after the Battle of Bosworth Field for he was absent from the battle, holding Middleham Castle for my grandfather. That he was a bastard also helped. Most of the lands and titles that Father had held were taken from him and he was left with just Bedale Manor in Yorkshire. Bedale was a small, rather dilapidated manor outside the small village of Bedale. It was an ignominious end of Grandfather’s bloodline. Mother came to Father with no lands for her father had fought against the king at the Battle of Stoke Field in 1487 and had disappeared. He was presumed dead and his lands were attained by the king. </p><p>Father and Mother married in late 1487 and Mother gave Father two living sons and three living daughters before my birth – Richard in 1488, Anne in 1490, Alice in 1491, Katherine in 1493, and Francis in 1494. Although Mother had birthed five children before me and survived, she did not live past my birth. When I was eighteen months old in early 1497, both my brothers caught a chill and died – Richard was eight and Francis almost three. My three sisters and I were now our Father’s co-heiresses, not that that meant we would get much. </p><p>Perhaps it was a wish for power and more land, perhaps it was a familial duty, but Father rose in rebellion against the king in an attempt to free his cousin, Edward Earl of Warwick, from the Tower of London and place him on the throne over our current king. Needless to say it failed. I had just turned four when men came to arrest Father. Anne, who was five years older than I and so I was in much awe of her, told me when I was older her memories of that day. She said that we had just sat down to break our fast when the men came storming into the Hall. Two grabbed Father and forced him out while four others each took one of us and escorted us to our shared bedchamber. Anne and Alice – being the eldest – were told to pack just the essentials for us. We were taken, then, to a cart and driven the thirty or so miles to York. We stayed in York for a few days before being put back on the cart and driven to Harrowden Hall in Northamptonshire, a distance of some one hundred and sixty miles. </p><p>Harrowden Hall was the seat of Sir Nicholas Vaux 1st Baron Vaux of Harrowden and his wife, Elizabeth FitzHugh Baroness Vaux of Harrowden and Dowager Baroness Parr of Kendal. Baroness Elizabeth was our great-aunt, being the younger sister of our maternal grandmother Anne FitzHugh and essentially the closest relation we had whose allegiances were not suspect. She had previously been married to William Parr 1st Baron Parr of Kendal, who had died in 1483 after refusing to acknowledge our grandfather Richard as king, with whom she had four grown children – Anne who was twenty-three and had married Sir Thomas Cheney the previous year, Thomas was twenty one and had just inherited Kendal Castle in the County of Lancaster, William who was twenty, and John who was seventeen. William and John were both in the household of Sir Thomas Grey 1st Marquess of Dorset (our cousin the Queen’s elder half-brother) for the Marchioness of Dorset was the first cousin of Baroness Elizabeth. Baron and Baroness Vaux had three girls themselves – Catherine was the same age as our Anne at nine, Alice was our Alice’s age at eight, and Anne was our Katherine’s age at six. I was the baby at four and my early memories are of my sisters and the Vaux’s picking on me and teasing me for they had paired off early on in our residence. </p><p>Baroness Elizabeth was a kindly woman who always made time, not only for her daughters, but us as well whenever she was in residence for she was a lady to Father’s cousin the Queen (and indeed Baroness Elizabeth was a relative of the Queen for her great-aunt was Cecily Neville Dowager Duchess of York – my namesake – who, in turn, was the Queen’s grandmother – and our great-grandmother for she was Grandfather’s mother). The Vaux girls, my sisters, and I grew up under the supervision of various governesses and Baroness Elizabeth’s ladies who were left at Harrowden for Baroness Elizabeth was not so important to have ladies around her. And so, I grew up quietly at Harrowden Hall among my sisters and the Vaux’s, never fully loved and never fully fitting in, but happy nonetheless. Our treasonous ancestry forgotten, and when gentlemen came calling, they glanced at Anne and Alice – and later Katherine – before singling out the Vaux’s for they were far better catches. I was never looked at, not just because I was younger, but because I had no inheritance worth their notice. </p><p>After the Queen’s death in February 1503, when we had been living at Harrowden for nearly three and a half years, Baroness Elizabeth returned to Harrowden Hall fulltime. Catherine Vaux and our Anne were approaching their thirteenth year and so Baroness Elizabeth spent more time with them, preparing them for their future marriages. The same happened when the two Alice’s turned thirteen the following year, and two years later when Anne Vaux and our Katherine also reached thirteen. Catherine Vaux would marry Sir George Throckmorton of Coughton in 1512, Alice Vaux married Sir Richard Sapcote the same year, and Anne Vaux married Sir Thomas Lestrange in 1515. I never had this from Baroness Elizabeth for catastrophe hit our household.</p><p>The sweating sickness, which had first come to England in 1485 when the King arrived from exile to overthrow my grandfather, came to Harrowden in the summer of 1507. Baroness Elizabeth, Baron Vaux, Anne Vaux, and all three of my sisters caught the sweat. The Baron and Anne Vaux recovered, although it took some weeks. Baroness Elizabeth – who was fifty-two – and my sisters died. Of the six children born to Sir John of Gloucester and his wife Anne Lovell, only I – the youngest – was still alive. The Baron arranged for my sisters’ bodies to be buried at Bedale, next to my brothers. He also arranged for me to go with them. </p><p>He had taken my sisters and I in because we were his wife’s relatives. She was gone now, and he had no place for me in his household. I packed my things, said goodbye to Catherine, Alice, and Anne Vaux, and headed back to the north. My guardianship had passed from Baroness Elizabeth and Baron Vaux to Baroness Elizabeth’s eldest son from her first marriage – Master Thomas Parr. And so I moved into Kendal Castle in the autumn of 1507, aged twelve.</p><p>Thomas was seventeen years my senior, being twenty-nine when I arrived at Kendal. He had studied at Oxford and spent time at Colyweston, My Lady the King’s Mother’s main country residence, for both of Baroness Elizabeth’s husbands had been affiliated with My Lady the King’s Mother. The Parr’s were the most significant family in Westmoreland, other than the royal family, and many of the gentry families called upon Thomas at regular occasions. It was not just the local gentry families that called upon Thomas during my residence but important men from further afield. His cousin, Cuthbert Tunstall (who would later become Bishop of Durham in 1530), had graduated from the University of Padua in 1505 as a Doctor of Canon and Civil Law, and visited Thomas multiple times. Whenever Dr Tunstall visited, he and Thomas had prodigious conversations on the law which left me completely lost while I sat there sewing. Dr Tunstall was also fluent in Italian, a language I fell in love with, and I begged him to teach me. We started a correspondence which lasted many years. Another occasional visitor to Kendal was Master Thomas More, a London lawyer and Member of Parliament who had married Joan Colt in 1505. Joan was the granddaughter of Thomas’ father’s first wife by her first husband, and Joan’s father John had been around Kendal when Thomas was young.</p><p>The household at Kendal was an erudite one and Thomas insisted that I would be educated as well. I had been taught to read English at Harrowden but Thomas had me learning to write, as well as Latin, French and, to my delight, Italian. He believed, much like both Dr Tunstall and Master More, in the education of women, and I revelled in this ideology. My domestic duties were not neglected either. As Thomas was not yet married, and there were no other gentlewomen in residence, I was the Mistress of Kendal Castle at the age of twelve. I thrived in this role and for the first time I was the important one rather than just the fourth daughter of a traitorous bastard who was a near forgotten ward, the one people came to in order to sort various household problems out.</p><p>Thomas married Maud Green in the last months of 1508 and my reign as Kendal’s sole Mistress was over. Maud was only three years older than I and we became close companions. She fell pregnant shortly after their marriage, but the pregnancy was hard on Maud and I took more and more duties from her to ease her burden. Thomas was so attentive to Maud during this time and it was my first time understanding what love and affection could look like. Maud went into labour a week before my fourteenth birthday and gave Thomas a boy. They named him Thomas and I stood as godmother to him three days later. </p><p>We lost him two days after that. </p><p>Maud was distraught but made a good show in front of the servants and local gentry who came to offer their condolences. Thomas decided that a change of scenery would help Maud and made the decision to remove to London, to a house in Blackfriars he had recently rented. Thomas had also, through Master More, who had now become Sir Thomas, gained Maud a place as lady-in-waiting to the new Queen Catherine, for the King – my grandfather’s overthrower – had died and his son Henry had come to the throne and married his elder brother’s widow, Catherine of Aragon. To my surprise, Thomas had also secured me a place in the Queen’s household as a maid-of-honour. </p><p>We arrived at Court in time for the Christmas celebrations where Thomas was knighted by the new king, eighteen-year-old Henry VIII, and made High Sheriff of Northamptonshire and Lincolnshire, as well as a Master of the Wards, Master of the Guards, and Comptroller of the King (this meant Thomas ranked below only the Treasurer of the Household in the Lord Steward’s department). It was there that I first met Henry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 1509-1512</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was fourteen and one of the youngest members of the Queen’s household. Queen Catherine was a pretty twenty-four-year-old who was heavily pregnant and was preparing to start her lying-in the day after Christmas. Maud, despite being seventeen and also one of the younger members, was instantly accepted by the ladies, many of whom had served Queen Elizabeth, the King’s mother and my Father’s cousin, alongside Baroness Elizabeth. I, however, was more of an outcast for my ancestry was held in contempt. Queen Catherine had no time for me, and I was just a faceless maid. Lady Margaret Pole, on the other hand, watched me closely.</p><p>Lady Margaret was the daughter of George Duke of Clarence, the elder brother of my grandfather, and the elder sister of the Edward Earl of Warwick on whose behalf my Father had rebelled and been executed alongside. From my first day at court she sought me out for I was a remembrance of a lost time. It was she who first commented on my looks. I had been an oddity among my sisters, all of whom were fair haired and blue eyed. I had dark brown hair and eyes that changed colour from grey to brown depending on the light. When Lady Margaret first laid eyes on me, when Maud and I were presented to Queen Catherine, she had gasped and paled. Afterwards, when she sought me out, I found out why – I was a female version of my grandfather. I had his same hair colour, and same strange eyes. I even had a twist in my spine which caused my shoulders to be uneven just as Grandfather had. Lady Margaret would often find me and tell me hushed stories of her childhood under my Grandfather and his wife Queen Anne Neville. I lived for these stories as I had been starved of my family history near all my life – and the little I had been told was always so against my Grandfather I could not really know him.</p><p>It was because of Lady Margaret that I came to the attention of the King for the first time. Queen Catherine had lost her child – a girl – on 31st January 1510, and there were rumours going around about the King having taken up one of the Duke of Buckingham’s sisters. The Queen was outraged with this, but it did not stop them from doing their duty for the Queen was pregnant again within months. To the joy of us all, the Queen delivered of a healthy boy who was named Henry after his royal sire on New Year’s Day 1511. We all rejoiced, and weeks of celebrations took place. Lady Margaret was given the honour of being the Duke of Cornwall’s Lady Governess and I, being trusted somewhat more than other maids by Lady Margaret, moved from the household of the Queen to the Prince.</p><p>Our joy was short lived. A servant called for Lady Margaret to inspect the Prince who was gasping for breath. She called for the physician, but we could do nothing. Prince Henry Duke of Cornwall died on 22nd February 1511, aged only 52 days. Lady Margaret left to tell the Queen that her son was dead and told me to tell the King of the news for the King’s temper was well-known. Despite being her cousin’s daughter, I was expendable and if I was banished for telling the King this news it was no problem to Lady Margaret. </p><p>I headed with shaking legs from the nursery to the King’s chambers, my heart in my mouth as I thought of his reaction. I had been at court for over a year and had yet to speak with the King for I always managed to hide myself whenever protocol allowed. Yeoman Warders guarded the doors to the King’s Privy Chambers and crossed their pikes when I approached. I curtseyed to them.</p><p>“Sirs, I have been sent by Lady Pole to His Grace with information of the Prince.”</p><p>They glanced at each other and I knew they could read the news in my face. Uncrossing their pikes, they opened the door to the King’s Privy Chamber and announced me.</p><p>“Mistress Cecily Gloucester to see you Your Grace.”</p><p>I curtseyed deeply to the King and held it until he bid me rise. </p><p>“Mistress Gloucester.” The King said. He was lounging on a chair opposite his closest friend, Sir Charles Brandon, a chess set between them.</p><p>“Your Grace, Sir Charles.”</p><p>The King gestured to a stool against the wall. I sat.</p><p>“Well Mistress Gloucester? What is it you have to say to interrupt me at my game?"</p><p>I paled and took a deep breath.</p><p>“Your Grace. I have been sent by Lady Pole to inform you-“ I broke off and took another deep breath, “-that His Grace the Prince is-“</p><p>I did not continue for the King could clearly read my message in my face.</p><p>“How?” He choked out. Sir Charles had moved and had a hand pressed to the King’s shoulder.</p><p>“The nursemaids called for Lady Margaret as the Prince was struggling for breath. She called for the physician but there was nought he could do.” I took another deep breath, “The Prince died in Lady Margaret’s arms.”</p><p>“Why? Why would God deprive me of my son? My heir. My darling boy?” Tears slipped down the King’s face. I felt uncomfortable at being privy to this display of emotion. </p><p>Perhaps sensing my unease, Sir Charles jerked his head in the direction of the door and I gratefully took the opportunity and fled. I leant against the wall next to the doors, my heart thudding wilding in my chest.</p><p>“Poor mite.” One of the Yeoman Warders said, shaking his head.</p><p>“Did he suffer Mistress?” The other asked. I shook my head mutely, curtseyed, and returned to the chamber I shared to rest.</p><p>Court life continued, albeit subdued, for both the King and Queen were sufficiently young enough to be more than capable of having more heirs. I slipped back into the background of life at court, happy to just be there. I was not interested in the political intrigues of the court but spent my days waiting on Queen Catherine, sewing shirts for the poor, embroidering, and reading. I kept up my Italian correspondence with Dr Tunstall and now included Sir Thomas More in this. Whenever they were at court, they and Thomas sought me out and I whiled away time in discussions with them. It was because of one of these discussions that I came to the attention of the King for a second time.</p><p>Sir Thomas was a sort of mentor to the King and was sought out by him quite regularly. Apparently, during one of these meetings, the King posed a question to Sir Thomas on a piece of Italian literature, I have quite forgotten which it was now, and Sir Thomas, being no expert in it, told the King of a young woman to whose family he had a connection with by his late wife (Jane Colt had only a month earlier died, and Sir Thomas had remarried to Alice Middleton just a few days previously). The King, an intellectual at heart and wishing to continue this particular discussion, told Sir Thomas to fetch the young woman. Sir Thomas came to the Queen’s Presence Chamber where I was working and gained permission from Queen Catherine to remove me for a short while for a discussion. He led me to the King’s Privy Chamber.</p><p>“Harry, this is the lady I spoke of.” Sir Thomas introduced me as I sunk into a deep curtsey, “My late wife’s grandmother’s- it is a complicated relationship – Mistress Cecily Gloucester.”</p><p>The King started at my last name, not an unusual reaction, then laughed at Sir Thomas’s attempt at an explanation. </p><p>“You do not know something Thomas? And twice in one day? This is an unprecedented event!”</p><p>The King clapped Sir Thomas on the back and turned to me.</p><p>“Perhaps you know what Thomas does not.”</p><p>I curtseyed again and took a deep breath.</p><p>“My late great-aunt, Elizabeth Baroness Vaux’s, first husband, the late Baron Parr, whose son I am the ward of, was the second husband of Sir Thomas’s late wife’s paternal grandmother.”</p><p>“No wonder you do not know that Thomas.” The King clapped Sir Thomas on the back again and gestured to some chairs by the window. I waited for both the King and Sir Thomas to sit before seating myself. </p><p>The three of us sat there, discussing first the Italian literature which Sir Thomas did not know of, and then various other subjects which time has forgotten. It had been before the main meal when I entered the King’s chambers, and I did not leave until the sun had set. Our conversation was enjoyable and slowly, over the next few months, I would spend more and more time in Henry’s company. It was not just private conversations in his chambers but in the Privy Gardens, in the Great Hall after meals, with Henry’s close friends, with his councillors. By Christmas 1511 I had become a staple within Henry’s circle – not liked by the men he surrounded himself with, apart from Sir Charles Brandon, but accepted. I was sixteen and Henry – my king, my handsome, athletic, twenty-year-old king – was clearly interested in me, not just sexually but intellectually. I found I was unable to walk through court without whispering following me, a stark difference from the year before where I was unknown. </p><p>Serving Queen Catherine was increasingly awkward. Henry was spending more and more time with me and not with her. She had not fallen pregnant since the Prince’s death ten months before, and there were rumours around her ability to give Henry a child. Queen Catherine was twenty-six and the eyes of the court were constantly on her stomach. It would not be until early 1513 that she fell pregnant again. The women of her chamber would shun me and I suffered many snide comments over my relationship with Henry. I was called whore more times than I could count, which, at that point, was ironic for I was still a virgin. </p><p>That changed on Twelfth Night 1512.</p><p>When I attended the Queen the day after the glares had intensified. The maids I shared a chamber with had obviously reported to the others that I had not returned to our chamber that night. It took no great genius to figure out that I had spent the night with Henry – that I was officially the King’s Mistress. If I had been an outcast for the last few months, I was even more of one now. Henry noticed this and tried to cheer me up by spending more time with me, pulling me into his circle even more. I knew this was Henry trying his best, but it made it worse.</p><p>It got even worse when I found out I was pregnant. </p><p>It was April that I realised that I had not had my courses since I had first slept with Henry. I panicked. I was sixteen and pregnant with the King’s illegitimate child – when his Queen was childless. I gained permission to leave court for a short time for Maud was in her final month of her pregnancy and was lying-in in the Parr’s London house at Blackfriars. Queen Catherine did not have objections to my leaving, I suppose she thought that getting rid of me would stop Henry’s attentions. That did not work. Henry, who never was one to write, sent me constant letters and visited me while I was at Blackfriars with Maud. </p><p>It was when I was at Blackfriars that I told Maud I thought I was pregnant with the King’s child. Maud, who had just turned twenty, was so calm and gave me confidence that I would be fine. Thomas assured me that they would look after my child in case anything happened to me, and that they would still look after me for Thomas was my guardian until I married or turned twenty-one. Considering I was pregnant with the King’s bastard and was myself the daughter of Richard III’s bastard son with only one manor as an inheritance, I doubted that I would ever marry unless Henry arranged it after throwing me away. </p><p>Thomas came with me when I met with Henry to tell him of the news for I did not wish to face him alone. I did not have to worry for Henry was ecstatic. He immediately started planning for our child – where they would live, who would look after them – and was insistent that it would be a boy. That started an argument that lasted my entire pregnancy over what we would call our son.</p><p>Maud gave birth to a daughter, who they called Katheryn after the Queen, on 1st May 1512. Both myself and Queen Catherine stood as godmothers to little Katheryn, while Sir Thomas was her godfather. It was an awkward christening for here was the childless Queen and the King’s pregnant mistress standing next to each other. To my relief the day went quickly, and I was able to escape from the Queen’s presence quickly. </p><p>I stayed with the Parr’s at Blackfriars for the rest of my pregnancy for the Queen had made it clear that I was not to return to her service – at least not while pregnant with her husband’s child. I doted on Katheryn and would happily watch her for hours while sewing my child’s layette. Henry visited as often as he could, but the court had gone on summer progress and would not be returning until the end of September, by which point I would be laying-in. Thomas and Maud also left with the court – and by the time they returned Maud had fallen pregnant again with a son, William, she would bare in June 1513 – and so I was left alone in the house at Blackfriars. Lady Alice More, Sir Thomas’ second wife, visited often and brought her stepchildren (Margaret, Elizabeth, Cicely, and John More) and daughter (Alice Middleton) along with her. I was particularly fond of Margaret who was nearing seven and was a precocious child. Lady Alice was a down-to-earth, no-nonsense woman some twenty years older than I, who took one look at me and decided that I needed a mother – a relationship that lasted the rest of her life.</p><p>Just over two weeks after the court had returned to London after its progress, I went into labour and delivered of a healthy boy on 2nd October. Henry had been sent for and came to see us almost immediately. I remember it even now, I was in bed, propped up by cushions, and cooing at my son – a son who was identical to me with little of Henry in him. There was but one name that I could think of for him.</p><p>“He looks like a Henry do you not think?” Henry said, taking him from my arms and holding him near the window.</p><p>“Richard. He is a Richard.” I said softly, admiring the scene.</p><p>“What?” Henry looked at me in shock.</p><p>“Henry is for your legitimate sons. He is Richard.”</p><p>“I will not have a son named after the Duke of Gloucester, especially not my eldest son.” Henry shouted, disturbing little Richard.</p><p>“He is my Grandfather.” I reminded Henry for he often forgot that I was of a traitorous line. “He would have been sixty today.”</p><p>In the end Henry relented and allowed me to call our son Richard, after my Grandfather whom everyone reviled. I did not care. I was proud of my heritage and I swore that my children would be as well. Richard was given into the care of Lady Margaret at Eltham in Greenwich and I visited him as often as I could between my duties at court for I was returned to the Queen’s chamber and the King’s bed.</p><p>It is a curious thing, being the King’s mistress and mother of his sole surviving child and serving his childless wife. But it was Henry’s orders that I serve Queen Catherine, so we obeyed. I stayed as much out of the way as I could and ignored all the slights and comments that were thrown my way. It was a situation that would continue for over a decade.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 1512-1527</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Court fell into a pattern quite quickly after it became apparent that I was not like the other women who graced Henry’s bed. Henry did not sleep with me then throw me away. Instead I stayed by his side as his, in effect, Maitresse en Titre, carrying his illegitimate children and watching Queen Catherine struggling to give Henry a legitimate heir. The Queen fell pregnant early 1513 but gave birth to a stillborn son in mid-September after riding half-way to Scotland after the Scottish King – the son of Henry’s elder sister Margaret – invaded England. Henry, and most of the English nobility were invading France, leaving the Queen as Regent of England with just the seventy-year-old Thomas Howard Earl of Surrey – the son of one of my Grandfather’s loyalist friends John Howard Duke of Norfolk, who died with Grandfather at Bosworth – and his eldest sons to defend against the Scots. They won and the Scottish King was killed alongside most of the Scottish nobility. Surrey was allowed to inherit his father’s title of Duke of Norfolk in February 1514 for this.</p><p>It was during this period that the Queen and I reached a rocky sort of friendship. Catherine realised that I was going nowhere quickly, and I knew that Henry valued Catherine for her bloodline, intelligence, and the fact that she was the one who would give him his heirs. I watched as Catherine fell pregnant again in 1514, giving birth to a stillborn son in December. Finally, I watched as, on 18th February 1516, Catherine gave birth to a living child – a daughter called Mary – and saw Henry’s hope that finally, he would have a male heir. It was not to be. Catherine fell pregnant for the last time in 1518 and gave birth to a premature girl in November who was quickly christened Catherine and died a few hours later. Henry’s hope started to fade.</p><p>I, on the other hand, had a far different experience. After Richard’s birth I had returned to Henry’s bed as soon as the church allowed. When Henry left for France in 1513, he left a child in my womb – a girl we named Cecily born on 13th February 1514. I fell pregnant very soon after Cecily’s birth (we called her Ceci to avoid confusion with myself) with a second boy born 29th January 1515 named John after my father. Thomas – after both Thomas Parr and Sir Thomas More – was born on 4th May 1516, followed by my second girl the day before my twenty-third birthday on 21st August 1518 who we called Anne after my maternal grandmother Anne FitzHugh and my eldest sister. Then there was Francis – for my other grandfather – on 12th July 1520, Alice – for my paternal grandmother and second sister – on 1st November 1521, Margaret – for Henry’s paternal grandmother – on 9th March 1523, Katherine – for Catherine and my youngest sister – on 26th December 1524, and finally my Henry on 28th June 1527 – Henry’s thirty-sixth birthday. I had two miscarriages between Katherine and Harry and felt for Catherine’s pain even more during that time.</p><p>Catherine and I, perhaps surprisingly, became closer and closer as she had each lost child, and I had each living child. Henry’s attentions near left Catherine as she failed to give him a living child past Mary, who we doted on. Mary was raised alongside my children outside the unhealthy air of London – mainly at Eltham and Hatfield – and Catherine and I, along with our households, spent as much time as possible with our children. And I had a household by then. </p><p>Henry had surprised me after giving birth to Francis (my third son and fifth child) with the title of Duchess of Gloucester, my Grandfather’s title. By then it must have been more than clear to everyone that I was a permanent part of court and Henry’s circle. It was also clear by then that Catherine would not give Henry a legitimate son. Rumours were abounding that with this move Henry meant to legitimise my children and make our sons his heirs, although Henry privately told Catherine that this was not so. Mary would still be his heir; he just wished to reward me and give me a private income and greater status within the court. I was no longer part of Catherine’s household, though I had not properly been so since Richard’s birth, but had my own household. I still spent most of my time within Catherine’s chambers for events were causing us concern.</p><p>Henry had never been faithful to Catherine – the existence of my children were no greater proof than that – but, despite his faithfulness to the two of us in the early years, as time went on his eye alighted on more and more of Catherine’s women. He had embarked on an affair with Elizabeth Blount in early 1517 and she gave birth to a son she called Henry – or Hal – in June 1519. Henry quickly married her off and she left court for the north of England with little Hal FitzRoy in tow. However, that was not the end of Henry’s other mistresses. His eyes then looked upon Mary Boleyn, the elder daughter of Henry’s Ambassador to France Sir Thomas Boleyn, and started an affair with her in 1520, after her marriage to William Carey. That affair lasted some four years before Henry discarded her and he never admitted whether her daughter was his or William Carey’s. Catherine and I doubted he even knew.</p><p>The most dangerous affair, and the one Catherine and I watched with most trepidation, started out innocently enough. Mary Boleyn’s younger sister had returned from France in 1522 but Henry did not notice her until he grew tired of Mary. Anne Boleyn was not a beauty like her sister was and although her intellect was great it did not match mine and Catherine’s. We both looked on in askance for we did not understand what drew Anne Boleyn to Henry. And yet, we dismissed her at first as just another of Henry’s mistresses. Catherine was the Queen, and I the Duchess of Gloucester and Maistresse en Titre, we were unremovable. But Anne Boleyn was different. Unlike the other women, unlike me even, she refused to sleep with Henry. And her refusal enflamed Henry. </p><p>By 1526 he was spending his time with me talking of Anne. I would return to Catherine in concern for this woman was getting more and more control over Henry and neither of us knew how to stop it. Well, we did – Anne was promising Henry a legitimate son. Catherine needed only give him that and Anne would be powerless. We both knew Catherine could not give Henry that. </p><p>Things heated up in May 1527 when Henry informed me that he had proposed marriage to Anne and that he had sent his secretary to Rome to ask the Pope for an annulment on the grounds of consanguinity for Catherine had been married to his elder brother Arthur before. She always held that she came to Henry a virgin, but Henry now doubted that. I was heavily pregnant with what would be my final child when Henry told me this and my temper escaped me. I raged at Henry and left his chambers in a huff. Immediately I informed Catherine of the news, for she had powerful allies who would stop this, and left for Maud’s Blackfriars house, as I did not wish to see either Henry or Anne Boleyn.</p><p>Thomas Parr had died in 1517, leaving Maud a young widow with three small children – Katheryn who was five, William aged four, and Anne only two. Maud had continued as a lady within Catherine’s household, leaving her children to the care of servants at Blackfriars. As little William Parr was too young to inherit, he and his sisters would be placed in the charge of a guardian who had near free access to their lands. I had gone to Henry to ask for the Parr children’s guardianship to be given to me – after all Thomas had been my guardian and close friend for many years, I was Katheryn and William’s godmother, and Thomas and Maud had stood as godparents to Ceci and our Tom. Henry had agreed and I gained control over the Parr lands until William turned twenty-one in 1534 and hence was always a welcome face at the Blackfriars house. Just three years previously, when Richard and Katheryn had turned twelve, Maud and I had agreed that they would marry once they turned sixteen in just over a years’ time. Therefore, it was natural that, in my temper, I turned to the Parr townhouse where I knew I would find companionship for Maud was devoted to Catherine. </p><p>I had just finished recounting my meeting with Henry to Maud, who had the afternoon off to visit her children, when one of my gentlemen ushers entered and interrupted with the news that Anne Boleyn was without and wishing to speak with me. Maud and I exchanged glances but before I could speak up, Anne Boleyn had entered. I rose, outraged by breach of etiquette from a knight’s daughter to a Duchess.</p><p>What a confrontation that was. Anne informed me that, when she became queen, I would have no place at court. She further told me that I would never grace Henry’s bed again for she would be his only bed partner, and that would not be until they married. I was beyond words at her audacity in speaking to me that way and informed her in no uncertain terms that I would not be listening to anything she said for I knew Henry far better than she did. Anne simply gave a large smirk and gave me a letter from Henry.</p><p>It stated that Henry had no wish for me to speak so of his beloved Anne – I internally sneered at the epithet – and until I had changed my views I was no longer welcome at court. It was an ignominious end to our sixteen-year relationship which had given Henry nine children with a tenth on its way. Anne obviously knew of the contents of the letter for she had a victorious smirk on her face.</p><p>“So you see Your Grace, I do know Henry better than you. I will of course make sure you are invited to my coronation; we would not want you to miss that now, would we?” Anne could not contain her feelings towards her victory.</p><p>Thankfully for us, she left as quickly as she had arrived. I turned to Maud then in horror for I could not refuse a direct order from Henry, but my heart was breaking into thousands of tiny pieces. I had given Henry everything – my virginity and reputation, children, and my heart – and yet I was thrown aside by a girl – although to be truthful Anne Boleyn was no girl for she was twenty-six – who promised him a legitimate son. Was Mary not enough for him? Mary was a charming, intelligent and well-bred eleven-year-old who Catherine and I, along with my cousin Lady Margaret who was her Lady Governess, had been preparing for being a Queen Regnant. And yet Henry was determined to have Anne as his wife. Well, I was determined if Henry was to do this then I would have no part in it.</p><p>I thanked Maud for her listening to me and gave my apologies for her hearing the confrontation on the part of Anne. She waved these aside, hugging me close and attempting to comfort me for she had seen my entire relationship with Henry and knew how devastated I was. My life had just been torn asunder and I did not know where I end up.</p><p>“Tell Her Majesty what happened today will you Maud? I cannot go to see her with this order.” I held Maud at arm’s length and gripped her arms tightly, pleading with her.</p><p>“Of course I will. Where will you go?” Maud asked me, concerned.</p><p>I had estates of course, I was the Duchess of Gloucester, but I had never visited them for I had always been at court. Henry had been more than generous in giving me estates, many of them in the north which had previously been owned by my family – including Middleham Castle where my Father had been born.</p><p>“Middleham I suppose, or perhaps Pontefract. I may even visit Bedale for it was where I was born, although it will be rather too small for my household.” I sat down with a sigh.</p><p>“Mother. Oh, good afternoon Aunt Cecily.” We were interrupted by Katheryn, trailed by William and Anne. “Aunt Cecily, are you alright?”</p><p>“I will be Kate, thank you for your concern.”</p><p>“You should take them with you, let Will see Kendal, and it would save Kate travelling up there at a later date – I assume you will be taking your children – and Anne may have experience as a maid, for I doubt that The Woman will allow her to be a maid. I will not allow it anyhow.” Maud said, gesturing to the Parr children lined up, all with concern on their faces.</p><p>“If you think it a good idea then I will. I will go to Hatfield tomorrow to collect the children and go to Middleham after that. I think one child should be born in the ancestral home.” I stood, having decided upon my future.</p><p>Maud simply nodded and ushered her children away, shouting orders for servants to oversee their packing. She assured me that she would oversee the packing of my chambers at court and send them to me at Middleham. I was left alone in the withdrawing chamber, staring out of the window at the boats below, hurrying up and down the Thames. The people of London had no idea of the storm that would be about to hit.</p><p>I left the next day, with Kate, Will, and Anne Parr in tow, heading to Hatfield where I collected my children and carried on to Middleham. We arrived at Middleham only a few days before my Harry was born and went about settling in.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 1527-1537</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We settled into a happy routine at Middleham, or Pontefract, and even on occasion at Kendal, where the children had their lessons – for I was determined that they would be as educated as it was possible to be – and spent as much time as possible outside playing. Maud kept us up to date – or as up to date as letters from London to Yorkshire could be – on all court gossip and the latest on what was being called ‘The King’s Great Matter’. Emperor Charles, Catherine’s nephew, had sacked Rome and taken the Pope prisoner a few days after my conversation with Boleyn and naturally, the Pope was not going to upset his captor by deciding against Catherine. It was stalemate and Boleyn was still holding out from sleeping with Henry. I could only imagine Henry’s mood at being denied sex with his ‘greatest love’.</p><p>Then, the sweating sickness struck England again. The same disease which took my three sisters from me came to Pontefract where we were staying at that time. Margaret – Maggie – caught it first at the end of June 1528. I could only sit with my other children and wait to be told that little Maggie, only five years old, was dead. She left us on Harry’s first birthday. Francis went next, just three weeks shy of his eighth birthday, followed closely by six-year-old Alice. I was distraught. I had lost my three sisters within days of each other twenty-one years previously from the sweating sickness, and now I had lost three of my children. They were buried at Bedale with my siblings and parents.</p><p>Richard, Ceci and Kate were godsends for, despite morning for Francis, Alice and Maggie like I was, they stepped up and took control of the household from me. My grief was compounded by the news filtering through that Anne Boleyn had caught the sweat but had recovered. Why had she survived while my three children had died? It was only when Maud arrived for Richard and Kate’s wedding that I pulled myself out of my grief. She sat there and let me rage at the injustice of Boleyn surviving while my three did not. Her gentle presence worked wonders.</p><p>The wedding of Richard FitzRoy Earl of Cambridge (the Cambridge title was one of my subsidiary ones which Richard had been holding since I became Duchess) to Katheryn Parr took place in the chapel at Middleham Castle at the end of October 1528. Richard and Kate were sixteen and companionably in love, bearing the teasing of their younger siblings with great forbearance. Maud and I sat together after we had seen Richard and Kate to bed, and our other children to their beds as well, in my privy chamber, reflecting on the last sixteen years.</p><p>“How long before they make us grandmothers?” Maud asked, sipping at her wine.</p><p>“I hope a few more years. We are all young. And the rate Henry is going with Boleyn, I will have grandchildren before we have a male heir for England.”</p><p>“They had better hurry up for she is not so young.”</p><p>“Henry will not wait forever.”</p><p>“He is waiting for a surprising long time, although not completely. As long as she does not find out the King does not seem to think it wrong.”</p><p>I let out a bitter laugh for I knew that Henry would not wait for Boleyn forever.</p><p>“Does he mention me do you know?” I asked quietly.</p><p>“Your name is banned from court except in the Queen’s chambers. Suffolk made the mistake of asking after you on behalf of his wife the Queen of France and the King, so gossip goes, near had him exiled.”</p><p>Suffolk was Sir Charles Brandon, Henry’s closest friend, who had married Henry’s younger sister Mary Dowager Queen of France in 1515, just weeks after Mary’s first husband had died. It was a great scandal but Mary, who was seven months younger than I, was close to both Catherine and I so we had intervened to bring them back. Since then, Mary and Suffolk were some of Catherine (and now mine)’s greatest supporters.</p><p>“Is it horrible to say serves Henry right?”</p><p>Maud and I exchanged glances and smiled.</p><p>Our wish on Richard and Kate’s wedding night for a few more years before we became grandmothers was a futile one. Less than one year after their marriage, they made Maud and I grandmothers to a girl they called Katherine – for our beloved queen and the proud mother. Maud and I cooed over little Kitty (we seemed to have a profusion of Catherine’s. There was the Queen, Kate, my youngest daughter Katherine – Kat – and now little Kitty. I turned round to Ceci and told her in no uncertain terms that she could not have a girl named Katherine for fear of my getting confused. Ceci just smiled and walked off) and for the month Maud with us neither Richard nor Kate could get near Kitty for we took grandmother’s rights and held her always.</p><p>Maud returned to court and, as her letters told me, had the pleasure of telling Henry that we were grandparents. Maud said that, as Kitty’s other grandmother, she had the rights to tell both Catherine – which she enjoyed for Catherine took great pleasure in asking about Kitty loudly and in front of Boleyn – and Henry. Henry’s reaction, apparently, was mixed. He was ecstatic that he was a grandfather but was upset that it was through his illegitimate son and not through a legitimate one – not that he had one.</p><p>Henry’s ‘Great Matter’ did not progress how he wanted it to. In June 1529, Henry had a Legatine Court at Blackfriars, headed by Cardinals Campeggio and Wolsey, to decide on his marriage. Catherine made a masterful speech which humiliated Henry and caused the people of London to come out very heavily on Catherine’s side. Still nothing. Cardinal Campeggio declared that it would have to be deferred to the court at Rome, which helpfully enough had just started its summer recess. Cardinal Wolsey fell soon after this and died at Leicester Cathedral on his way from York, where we had called upon him, to London on charges of treason. Wolsey’s protegee, a man named Thomas Cromwell, rose through the ranks of Henry’s inner circle and this started worrying rumours in the north that Cromwell would destroy our religion. Cromwell was moving against the church in Rome in Parliament, but Henry could not nothing until Archbishop Warham of Canterbury died. This he did on my thirty-seventh birthday. </p><p>Meanwhile, Henry had sent Catherine away permanently in 1531, and reduced her household to one as small as he could get away with. Maud was not one of them for she had fallen ill before Catherine was dispatched from Court. Kate hurried down to the Blackfriars’ house, along with Will (who was eighteen) and Anne (sixteen) Parr and Kitty who was nearly three. They were with Maud when she passed on 1st December 1531, aged only thirty-nine. She was buried in London with Thomas. Kate, who was pregnant for the third time, later gave birth to a daughter they called Maud. I missed her companionship for Maud had been with me since her marriage to Thomas twenty-three years previously.</p><p>Henry wasted no time after Archbishop Warham’s death and appointed one of the Boleyn family’s old chaplains, one Thomas Cranmer, as Archbishop of Canterbury. One problem Henry had was that Cranmer was in Italy and Henry had to wait for him to return to England. This he did for he arrived in England in January 1533 and, as I later heard, married Henry to Boleyn in late January 1533, when Henry was still married to Catherine. Cranmer opened a special court in May which ruled Henry’s marriage to Catherine as invalid (and hence their daughter Mary a bastard like my own children) while his marriage to Boleyn was valid. </p><p>Obviously wanting no doubt about Boleyn’s position, Henry organised a great pageant for her coronation in June, when she was early six months pregnant. Neither I nor any of my children attended for it was far too far for us to travel with so little notice. Henry sent me a letter speaking of his delight of finally being the father to a legitimate son. I ignored it for my children were not less than any that Boleyn would have. </p><p>Turns out, Boleyn would not have a son. A daughter, Elizabeth, was born from that first pregnancy and I heard from official reports that Boleyn had two more pregnancies, both of which failed to give living children. Henry was becoming increasingly hateful towards her – sleeping with other women – and their marriage was breaking down. I took great satisfaction in this for Boleyn could not hold Henry as either Catherine or I had done, despite what she believed.</p><p>Catherine was having a far more difficult life for she had been moved from one derelict manor to another since her banishment in 1531. Her few remaining servants would send me updates on her which concerned me no end for she was in a pitiful state and I marvelled how she continued going. The few letters I managed to smuggle to her always joked about how it was her Spanish stubbornness that kept her alive. They were the highlight of my days when I received them for I truly valued Catherine for how she had acted towards all Henry’s women – especially myself for I was the most serious threat to her before Boleyn. There were times when I thought Catherine would not come through, but she would, constantly, until the time she did not. Winter 1535 was cold and wet, and Catherine caught a chill. I hurried south to Kimbolton, where she was being kept, and, alongside Maria Willoughby – her longest friend who had arrived with Catherine in England in 1501 as Maria de Salinas and whose daughter was now married to Suffolk after Henry’s sister Mary’s death – stayed by her side as she breathed her last. Catherine Queen of England died 7th January 1536 at the age of fifty.</p><p>Even with Catherine dead, Henry was vindictive and refused to allow her to be buried as a Queen of England and instead she was buried as a Dowager Princess of Wales in Peterborough Cathedral at the end of the month. I was the chief mourner alongside Richard, Ceci, John, Tom and Anne. As soon as the funeral was over, we retreated north again, later hearing rumours that Boleyn had miscarried a son on the day of Catherine’s funeral.</p><p>It was the start of her downfall. Boleyn had always said she would give Henry a male – legitimate – heir and yet she had failed. Yes, Henry had given her only three years, but he had not been faithful to her – so we heard – since her pregnancy with her only surviving child – Elizabeth. Boleyn had powerful enemies for she had encouraged Henry to split with Rome. The other powers in Europe were against him – and not just because Catherine’s nephew was the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain – and at home many people, especially in the north, were against the ‘reforms’ Henry was having Cromwell head. </p><p>Cromwell was investigating the abuses in monastic foundations. I could not deny that some foundations were not as holy as they should be but the accusations Cromwell were making were ridiculous. Cromwell’s deputies had arrived at Fountains Abbey and accused Abbot William Thirsk of being immoral and inadequate and had him dismissed. He was replaced with Marmaduke Bradley who had testified against Abbot Thirsk. When Richard confronted Cromwell’s commissioners, they told him that a bastard need not concern themselves with matters of the state. We took Abbot Thirsk in as a chaplain at Middleham but were unable to save more monks and nuns. </p><p>It was not just those of the monastic profession that were affected by Henry and Cromwell’s religious reorganisation. Sir Thomas More, one of my oldest friends, was caught up. After Wolsey’s fall, he had become Lord Chancellor but had resigned in 1532 as what Henry was asking him to do was against his conscience. Cromwell then started targeting him and spent over a year before Sir Thomas was caught. Henry had pushed through an Act of Succession which stated that his children through Boleyn were the sole heirs, and an Oath of Supremacy wherein Henry was declared Head of the Church in England rather than the Pope. Sir Thomas agreed to sign the Act of Succession but refused the Oath of Supremacy. His fate was sealed.</p><p>Sir Thomas was committed to the Tower of London for over a year before his trial in July 1535. Lady Alice – who I invited north in the aftermath of this – told me of the events. Sir Thomas refused to speak for he could not be convicted if he did not speak against Henry. Cromwell was at the end of his tether with Sir Thomas for he almost got off. However, Sir Richard Rich, stepped forward and alleged that Sir Thomas had denied Henry’s right to the headship of the Church in his presence, despite other witnesses denying this. Sir Thomas was found guilty and, having no need to stay silent anymore, spoke freely of his belief that Henry could not be the Head of the Church for that was the position of the Pope. He was beheaded on 6th July 1535. </p><p>I had sometimes had a rocky relationship with Sir Thomas for he had written a damning account of my Grandfather, but I truly admired him and valued our decades long friendship and correspondence. I could not believe that Henry would execute Sir Thomas for he was Henry’s old friend – he was the reason why I had met Henry in the first place all those years ago. Henry’s actions towards not just Sir Thomas but also Bishop Fisher and countless other loyal Romans had caused discontent among many, especially the ardent Romanist north. Henry did not seem to know this for he – or rather Cromwell – kept investigating monasteries and closing them down. That did not change for a few more years.</p><p>What did change in 1536 was Boleyn. After losing her second child on Catherine’s funeral day, Henry – and Cromwell – moved against Boleyn for Henry had become infatuated with one of Boleyn’s maids named Jane Seymour (she had also been a maid to Catherine). Boleyn was arrested alongside five men, including her own brother, and accused of adultery and incest. Henry even claimed that her daughter Elizabeth was not his daughter, although it was obvious that she was his for they had the same shade of red hair. Boleyn was even accused of imagining Henry’s death. Naturally none of them were found innocent and Boleyn was beheaded on Tower Green on 19th May 1536.</p><p>I thought that, with Boleyn gone, Henry would send for me and our children, but I was still ignored. Henry had put me out of his mind. Instead, Henry married Jane Seymour just eleven days after Boleyn’s death. I could not believe this and felt the pieces of my heart that I had pieced together over the previous nine years break again. </p><p>Jane never had much of an impact on my life, not like her predecessors. From all I heard about her she was meek and the complete opposite of Boleyn. Not surprisingly, Henry was unfaithful within weeks of the wedding and that continued throughout their marriage. There are only two times that I know of when Jane interfered in Henry’s doing. The first was towards Catherine’s daughter Mary. </p><p>With Boleyn’s rise, Mary had seen herself fall from Princess and Heiress Presumptive to bastard but unlike with my children, she did not have the comfort of a loving mother with her for she had been barred from seeing Catherine since Catherine’s banishment. Boleyn’s hatred of her went so far as to order Mary to be a maid in her half-sister Elizabeth’s household. Mary had refused to sign either the Act of Succession or the Oath of Supremacy and put herself in much danger. I had signed both for I knew Henry’s anger was deadly and the letters I got to her always included a plea to save herself and sign. She never did. Even after Boleyn’s fall she did not. Somehow, Jane managed to reconcile both Henry and Mary – even though this meant Mary did have to sign both Act and Oath – for Christmas 1536. I sent my well-wishes to Mary and gave her a standing invitation to visit now she had a household of her own and freedom to go where she wanted. </p><p>The second time Jane intervened was during the Pilgrimage of Grace. The north had had enough of our monasteries being closed and looted, the monks and nuns turned out, and the new Anglican service being put in place of the Mass. It started in Lincolnshire in October 1536 but, despite thousands marching on Lincoln Cathedral, it ended within days when Suffolk appeared with troops. Two weeks later, Robert Aske – a lawyer from Aske Hall which was only an hour or two north of both Middleham and Bedale – led 9,000 into York and re-established all Roman religion. The Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Shrewsbury were so intimidated that they promised a parliament in York within a year and general pardons to the thirty or forty thousand people involved. Both stayed with me at Middleham for it was in easy access to the members of the Pilgrimage of Grace and I was able to get valuable information on the court for most of my friends there had died. They also stayed with me, in my opinion, in order to reassure Henry that his ex-mistress and children were not involved with the uprising. I may have sympathised with them, but I wanted nothing to do with it.</p><p>After Norfolk and Shrewsbury’s promises most dispersed and Aske, along with other leaders, spent Christmas in London and returned with Henry’s agreement on the promises. I knew that Henry would not keep those promises and worried over what would happen when the people realised that. In February 1537, uprisings under Sir Francis Bigod occurred in Cumbria and Westmoreland. Norfolk and Suffolk were sent to put this down and with force. Thousands were hung and the leaders were rounded up and sent either to York or London. Many knights and lords of the area had been involved for they were sympathetic – like I was – and, when faced with the thousands of pilgrims, opened their doors, condemning themselves in the process. The north was decimated and hatred against Henry and Cromwell was at an all-time high. This, unfortunately, included my family and I for many could not forget that my children were FitzRoy’s.</p><p>After Easter the news filtered north that Jane was expecting a child. Mary wrote to me thanking me for my invitation, but she wished to stay to see Jane through her pregnancy for she was struggling with it. I wished her well and hoped that the child would be a boy – for Jane’s sake more than for Henry’s. </p><p>The child – born 12th October 1537 – was a boy. Born on the saint’s day of St Edward the Confessor he was, naturally enough, named Edward. I was vaguely surprised that Henry did not insist on the child being named Henry – after all there had been Catherine’s short-lived son Henry Duke of Cornwall, Elizabeth Blount’s son Hal FitzRoy who had died the year before, and my youngest Harry whom Henry had never met – but perhaps he felt that was an unlucky name now. Henry now had his precious heir and I wished him well.</p><p>That was not to be for we heard that Jane had died twelve days after young Edward’s birth. Henry, to all accounts, was distraught and refused to see anyone bar his fool Will Somers. Mary was left to run the court and oversee the removal of Prince Edward to Eltham for safekeeping. </p><p>When Christmas was approaching and it seemed that Henry would not re-emerge into court life, Mary made a decision that would change mine, my children, and my grandchildren’s lives. She sent a letter calling all of us to court for Mary believed that – despite me being absent for nearly eleven years – I would be the only one able to reach Henry. I still loved Henry, despite everything that had happened and so, I left for court for the first time since my banishment in May 1527.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 1537-1538</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a large cavalcade which made its way into the Clock Court at Hampton Court Palace three days before Christmas 1537. I had brought my entire family south – including my sons- and daughters-in-law – and we made a sight for the courtiers milling around. Many of those courtiers did not know me for the most of old guard from Catherine’s time had gone and I felt uncomfortable coming into a situation where I did not know the players and their motivations. I had been absent from court for so long I had almost forgotten how to play the games in court.</p><p>Alongside myself there was Richard and Kate (both now twenty-five) – the Earl and Countess of Cambridge – with Kitty (now eight), Dickon (seven), Maud (five), and Cecily – Lily – (one). Ceci (twenty-three) had married Francis Baron Hastings, the heir to the Earl of Huntingdon, in 1530 and had Frances (four), Henry (nearing two) and William (three months). John (twenty-two) had married Katherine Pole – the daughter of my old friend and cousin Lady Margaret – earlier in the year and she was now a few months pregnant. Tom (twenty-one) was accompanied by Anne de Vere who he would marry in July. Anne (nineteen) had married Henry Baron de Clifford and heir to the Earl of Cumberland in 1534 and had brought little Maggie (six months) with them. Katherine – Kat – who would be thirteen in four days and Harry (ten) were both jumping around in the litter with me for neither of them remembered court – Harry had never even left the north. We made an intimidating entourage, and I knew it.</p><p>“Your Grace, welcome back to court.” Mary, Catherine’s daughter who, when I had last seen her was an eleven-year-old, had now become a severe and sorrowful looking twenty-one year old, was standing there to greet us.</p><p>I smiled for Mary had the same graciousness as her mother.</p><p>“Thank you Mary.” I kissed her on the cheek, “Now, where is your Father?”</p><p>Most of the courtiers gasped at my actions for it was a huge breach of etiquette but it did not worry me – I was the Duchess of Gloucester, granddaughter of King Richard III, and mother of seven of the King’s children – I had been there when Catherine gave birth to Mary and she had always called me Aunt Cecily when she was a child.</p><p>“In his bedchamber Aunt. He will not see anyone.”</p><p>“I am not just anyone.”</p><p>Ceci and Anne came forward then and engulfed Mary in a hug, for they had always been close to her, and showed her their children. Mary had a wistful look for she was still unwed and was given no opportunity to become a mother. I left them in the courtyard and made my way through the King’s chambers until I reached the oh-so-familiar doors to Henry’s bedchambers. Two Yeoman Warders guarded them as always but, luckily for me, one of them had been at court since my reign as Maitresse-en-Titre, and he went to open the doors before being stopped by the younger.</p><p>“His Majesty does not wish to see anyone.”</p><p>“I am the Duchess of Gloucester. I will be seeing Henry.”</p><p>“I said-“ The younger was cut off by the elder bowing to me.</p><p>“She is the King’s- well, she is perhaps the most important woman in the King’s life. Let her through.” He turned to me. “I hope you will be able to help him Your Grace.”</p><p>“I will.”</p><p>With that I entered Henry’s bedchamber and laid eyes on him for the first time since that fateful argument over ten years previously. I was shocked by the change to him. Gone was the athletic man I knew and loved. Instead, I saw a sad, overweight old man. Henry might be only four years older than me, but he looked at least ten years my senior. I could not believe the difference.</p><p>“I said I was not to be disturbed.” Henry said, his voice raspy and thin, not looking up from the paper in front of him.</p><p>I said nothing but simply headed to the windows to open them and get some needed light into the room.</p><p>“What?” Henry looked up and paled.</p><p>“Hello Henry.” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It has been a while.”</p><p>“Cecily.” He looked astonished, “What are you doing here? Should you not be in the north?”</p><p>“Do you want me to be?” Henry said nothing to that, “Mary wrote me. She seemed to believe that I was the only person capable of getting you back to court. Now, get up, shave, and get dressed. I will see you in the Great Hall for lunch.”</p><p>My piece said I left, ordering one of the gentlemen of Henry’s Privy Chamber – who looked at me in shock for I suppose most forgot about me and thought I would never leave the north – to see to Henry’s toilette on the way out. Finding one of the senior officers I informed him that the King would be eating in the Great Hall and that he should see to the arrangements for, naturally enough, I and my family would be joining him at the top table.</p><p>I found my family in the Privy Garden. My older children and Mary were sitting on the benches, catching up on the ten years they had lost, while my younger children and grandchildren were running about playing. I noticed a red-haired girl playing with them and sent a questioning look at Mary.</p><p>“I brought Elizabeth with me. Ever since her mother she has been neglected. I hate her mother, but I cannot hate her.”</p><p>“Frances seems to have made friends with her.” I noted, “Well, there will be time to catch up later but we will be having lunch in the Great Hall with your Father so you will need to be ready.” I watched the playing children, “Kitty and Dickon may come but leave the others in the nursery.”</p><p>“Yes Mother.” Richard said, chivvying the younger members of our group towards the entrance to the palace.</p><p>“Will I meet Father?” Harry asked, walking next to me as we headed to our rooms.</p><p>I looked down. This was one of the things I blamed Henry for the most. Harry had never met his Father, and Kat was too young to remember him. Henry had met none of his grandchildren or his children’s spouses. The desires of one woman had done this to us and I was glad that Boleyn was dead – though I grieved for the way it happened for I doubted that any of the charges were true. I was not ignorant either that Henry had not called me back after her death but instead moved on to another woman.</p><p>I still loved him. God help me I still loved him.</p><p>I was shocked that, after we had seated ourselves at the top table, the heralds announced Henry. For all that I had hoped he would listen and appear, I did not know for certain. My heart leaped when I saw him. Mary, sitting next to me, gripped my hand and whispered her thanks. This was the first time most of the court had seen Henry since Jane had died. Henry’s attention was not on Mary or I, however, it was on the rest of the table – the children, after all, had changed dramatically since he last saw them.</p><p>“Richard?” Henry questioned after he had seated himself, with a grunt I heard for his leg was paining him and looked to his right.</p><p>“Good afternoon Your Majesty.” Richard bowed his head before sending a warning glare at Dickon who was trying to have pure wine instead of the watered-down variety he was allowed.</p><p>“You-you have grown. And a father yourself.” Henry near stuttered.</p><p>I was not feeling completely charitable towards Henry and could not resist a comment of “That is what happens to people over ten years.”</p><p>Henry spent the rest of the meal in wonderment as each of our children and the two grandchildren I had allowed at the table regaled him with tales and ten years of updates. He seemed contented and I saw the looks from the other courtiers that seemed to say, ‘this is a miracle’, that the King had returned once again.</p><p>The next day Henry appeared in my Privy Chamber after breaking his fast. I had not expected him but welcomed him nonetheless.</p><p>“I cannot believe that you came back. After everything that has happened…” Henry trailed off.</p><p>“I love you Henry, I always have. But you hurt me, badly, with what happened with her. I left and settled as a great magnate in an area where my family are still regarded with some affection. I did not plan on returning, although I would never stop our children from doing so. And yet they never came because they knew what you had done to me. Richard and Ceci, and Kate for she has always been a daughter to me, remember clearly what I was like at the start, and I know they told the others. Why do you think the Hastings’ and Clifford’s do not frequent court? The same with the Pole’s – and I have not forgotten what you have done to them – and de Vere’s. But I love you and you needed me – even if you did not know it – so I came.”</p><p>“I have missed my children growing up have I not? I have missed their weddings and the births of my grandchildren. I never said goodbye to Francis, Alice and Maggie. I gave up everything for another daughter and now a son who looks a Seymour and is weak.”</p><p>Henry dissolved into tears. Harry, who had stuck his head into the room, was quickly glared away for Henry did not need his son seeing him like this.</p><p>“They are forgiving, if you try.” I sunk down next to him and hugged him tightly. “I am never leaving again. I swear.”</p><p>Once Henry had gathered himself and I collected the family, he took us to the nursery to meet the little Prince. He was not lying. I compared Prince Edward to any of my children and grandchildren and came up lacking. All my children – apart from Richard and Kat who were my (and Grandfather’s) double – were either all Henry or a blend of the both of us. I could see nothing of Henry in Edward, and if there was one person who knew Henry it was me. I presumed he was his mother’s double – and a weak one at that.</p><p>Under Henry’s careful observation – which I found highly amusing for all were incredibly used to holding younger siblings – Edward was passed around. I sat next to Henry, happy that we were all together, including Mary and young Elizabeth, and revelling in the peace. It was soon interrupted by two men.</p><p>“Forgive us Your Majesty, we were unaware His Highness had company.” The elder of the two said, bowing low to Henry but ignoring me.</p><p>“Cecily, these are Jane’s brothers, Edward Earl of Hertford and Sir Thomas Seymour.”</p><p>“Gentlemen.” I greeted them before turning back to Henry. “Why do we not take the elder children outside and leave your son in peace?”</p><p>I never did like the Seymour brothers for I felt they were grasping courtiers who were taking advantage of Henry’s roving eye – and later their sister’s good fortune in birthing a son – to gain position. However, if they thought that they would be the most important courtiers as the uncles to the future king they had another thing coming. I may have been happy to stay in the north, but I had ambitions for my family, and I knew well where we stood on the ladder – at the top.</p><p>That Christmas was a peaceable one for the court were happy that Henry had emerged from his self-imposed isolation, but I could see uneasy looks passed between members of the Privy Council. Henry had ten children and yet only one – the youngest and weakest – was legitimate. His eldest sons and daughters were parents themselves. How many of those councillors – Cromwell being at the fore – were already plotting Henry’s fourth marriage?</p><p>They were sensible and waited until the Prince was six months old before approaching Henry during a Privy Council meeting on the topic of another wife who could give Henry more legitimate heirs. Richard – who had been appointed a Privy Councillor soon after we arrived at court – came running into my chambers and relayed the news to me. Cromwell had asked first, even gone as far as to give Henry names of possible brides, but all he got was Henry shouting at him and storming off. I did not know then that a seed had been planted in Henry over a fourth wife.</p><p>That continued for some months. The argument was still going on when Katherine Pole gave John his first child – Margaret for her mother, when Tom married Anne de Vere in July, and when Prince Edward turned one. Henry was nothing if not stubborn, a trait he had unfortunately passed onto all his children.</p><p>Things came to a head in early November 1538. Henry lost his temper with his Privy Council and forbid mention of his remarrying. Cromwell, evidently not the most intelligent person, pushed Henry too far. He left with a headache and bruise from Henry throwing an inkwell at his head but with news. Henry had stated he would marry no one but myself.</p><p>Richard, again, was the person who told me this. It was the first I had ever thought of marrying Henry for he had always been unavailable to me while I was his mistress and the last year we had settled into a relationship more akin to our 1511 one. I knew Henry was still with other women, but I was old enough and secure enough in our relationship that I did not mind. Henry soon came to me with his proposal. It was not the most romantic of ones I must admit. He stormed in, full of anger at Cromwell, and told me I would be marrying him.</p><p>I laughed.</p><p>He took offense to this and we did not speak for some days before Richard took pity on him and spoke with Henry over it. Henry came to me later and apologised for how he proposed to me but assured me that it was true. I could do nothing else but agree to it for, despite all we had been through, I loved Henry with all my heart.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 1539-1547</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Henry and I married on Twelfth Night 1539, twenty-seven years to the day that we first consummated our relation, at St George’s Chapel Windsor Castle. We were surrounded by our family and much of the court, all of whom – despite their true feelings – cheered at our joining. My coronation was set for the Friday after Easter and it seemed that all England had turned out for my coronation for the streets were crowded and loud and jubilant. It was the first coronation I had seen – I was not yet at court for Henry and Catherine’s, I was never going to attend Boleyn’s even if I was invited, and Jane Seymour was never coronated – and I was full of wonder at the sheer happiness that was being displayed. What made me even happier was Henry legitimising our children.</p><p>No king had ever legitimised his children before – no king had made his children illegitimate either – but both of us were descended from the legitimised children of John of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster (Henry’s father drew his claim from this line while our great-grandmother – my namesake – Cecily Neville Dowager Duchess of York was the daughter of one of these children) and so it could be done. The stipulation was, however, that Edward was still Prince of Wales and Henry’s heir – regardless of the fact that he was Henry’s youngest – but Richard was second in line. With the legitimisation came new titles for them. Richard became Duke of York, John was Duke of Somerset, Tom Duke of Richmond, and Harry Earl of Nottingham. I also convinced Henry to put Mary and Elizabeth into the line of succession which caused many arguments. Henry wanted to put them after all my children as they were still illegitimate. I was conscious that both had been born when Henry thought he was married while mine definitely were not.</p><p>In the end Edward was still Prince of Wales, then came Richard and his children, John and his, Tom and his, Harry and any he had with Jane Howard who he would be marrying in 1549, Ceci and hers, then Mary who I decided I would convince Henry to marry off, Anne and hers, Kat and her future children (she would be marrying Francis Lord Russell in 1543), then finally Elizabeth. The Emperor had no complaints for Mary was now in the line of succession and had my children been legitimate from the start that was where she would be in line of succession anyway.</p><p>My life settled again. The younger of our children went to the various childhood palaces where they could grow without the unhealthy air of London. I missed them terribly for I had always had them with me. My boys went to the various estates they had been gifted by Henry with their new titles while my girls split themselves between the estates of their in-laws and my northern estates for they often complained of their in-laws being overbearing, especially with them now being the children of the King and Queen and in the line of succession. It was rather strange for, during my banishment, I had kept my family close, but the life of royals meant my family were not with me. That did not stop various members of the family making surprise visits and keeping both Henry and I up to date with familial happenings. Henry was determined to make up for his previous mistakes and would always be the first to know what was happening with the family. It seemed that we would be made grandparents again at least twice a year for the children were nothing but dedicated in giving us heirs.</p><p>1539 turned into 1540 which turned into 1541. Henry, despite being a new man who loved his family, was still Henry. He had found a new mistress in the form of Katharine Howard – a pretty if stupid girl the same age as Maggie would have been had we not lost her from the sweat. Henry seemed enamoured with her and was constantly singing her praises – something which made myself and the older children slightly disgusted for she was younger than most of the children. The Duke of Norfolk, who was Katharine’s uncle, was roaming round Court even more arrogantly than normal. He felt that he was somehow more superior because one of his many relations was sleeping with the King. It all came down for the Howards towards the end of the year when Cromwell – who was still at Court and frustrating all attempts to restore the monasteries – uncovered a plot to overthrow me as Queen and install Katharine in my place, making my children illegitimate again. I suppose it made sense to Norfolk for Henry’s three previous Mistresses had all become his Queens – and the chance to have another of his nieces (Boleyn had been the first) as Queen and potentially the heir to the throne (young Edward was still a fragile child) was too much for his ambitions. However, no one had ever accused Norfolk of being intelligent. </p><p>When Henry found out he went into a rage and banished the Howard’s from Court. He threatened to break the betrothal of Harry to Jane Howard – the eldest daughter of Norfolk’s heir the Earl of Surrey – but I persuaded him not to as our children had married into most other noble families and it would be an insult to the Howards not to marry at least one of our children to them – that it was our youngest escaped no-one’s notice. Anyway, Jane was a companion to Elizabeth, and it was unfair to deprive Elizabeth of her.</p><p>Henry swore off having a mistress after that – none of the family quite believed that would happen as Henry was far too fond of women – as he had had enough of the families of the women he slept with trying to get more power from it. Personally, I believed his weight and general health was the main factor for Henry as he was no longer the man I once knew. He had continued to put on weight and complain about his leg throughout our marriage. After ten living children and a few miscarriages, I was no longer the slim young woman I had been, but Henry’s change was truly terrifying for me to witness. It also scared our grandchildren for they did not know what to make of the fat man with a stinking leg who they visited a few times a year.</p><p>Perhaps it was Henry’s awareness of his state or seeing Richard and our other children being what he had been in his youth, but Henry decided to revive his old ambitions and go to war with France. He signed a treaty with Emperor Charles in February 1544 that they would invade France in that summer. Preparations started and war with France was declared in June. Henry wished to leave immediately, to regain his youth, but his leg ulcer opened again, and he spent most of June in agony. I was the only one he allowed into the bedchamber without him snapping. </p><p>As soon as the ulcer cleared up, Henry left for Dover and thence to Calais to begin his campaign. Henry took all four of my sons with him – including seventeen-year-old Harry who I begged him to leave behind – as well as all three of my sons-in-law – Ceci’s husband Francis Hastings, now Earl of Huntingdon since his father’s death earlier in the year, Anne’s husband Henry Clifford Earl of Cumberland, and Kat’s new husband Francis Lord Russell who was the same age as Harry. My daughters and daughters-in-law invaded Court with their children to be with me for I had been left as Regent – as Catherine had been during Henry’s last French campaign – and I took great joy in having my remaining family close.</p><p>I worried for Henry and the others incessantly, especially about Harry for I still felt that he was too young to go. Harry was perhaps my favourite child after Richard (my beloved first son and Grandfather’s namesake) and Ceci (my first daughter and my namesake) for he was the one I had to myself the longest and he was my baby. Despite my worry, I focussed on ruling England in Henry’s stead. Kate and Ceci took over much of the logistics surrounding supply movement – to my utter relief – but I was left with the task of everything else. Those that had not left for France opposed me at every corner – especially Cromwell and the Seymour brothers – however I was the Queen Regent, and I had enough reverence from other members of the Privy Councillors that the few troublesome ones were dismissed with alarming frequency. </p><p>We all eagerly awaited news from France about their progress. It was not encouraging. Norfolk had started besieging Montreuil before Henry’s arrival, but Henry decided that he would not assist Norfolk but besiege Boulogne instead. It was not until mid-September that Boulogne finally surrendered. Other than Boulogne, us English had nothing to show for the losses of life and money for Montreuil was continuing to hold out against Norfolk. The Emperor, frustrated with our lack of progress, accused Henry of breaking their agreement to march on Paris together and abandoned his march on Paris the same month as Boulogne fell. Henry was outraged at the perfidy shown by the Emperor and vowed that he would conquer France all by himself and not give the Emperor any credit. </p><p>Norfolk and his troops were starving as they had reduced the surrounding area to bare dirt while the French holding Montreuil were reduced to eating horses and cats. He swallowed his pride and set me a pleading letter asking that I might encourage Henry to send assistance. Henry ignored my letter. Norfolk ended up going to Henry, leaving his son Surrey in charge. Surrey, who was young and headstrong, decided to make an attempt on one of the gates which was disastrous. He was knocked unconscious and the knight who saved him was mortally wounded. Henry finally agreed to withdraw from Montreuil. The Privy Council and I were encouraging Henry to return to England in the aftermath of this. Already, my sons and sons-in-law had returned – unharmed to my ever-lasting happiness – to assist me in my governing. I just needed Henry back.</p><p>Henry did return – via Calais and a lot of military extravagance – and he insisted on having huge celebrations for his victory at Boulogne. I thought this was a bit much as he had really lost more than he gained in reputation, but Henry ignored me and went ahead. Part-way through the celebrations we heard that Boulogne had been abandoned and the French had launched a failed attack on it. Henry was furious with Norfolk and Surrey and was threatening them with execution – again. Richard and John talked him out of it but it was a close thing. They were ordered back to Boulogne but a threat of invasion by the French King caused Henry to order them home to help with coastal defences.</p><p>1545 was spent in a state of readiness for the French invasion, constantly alert for the smallest sign that France was upon us. Henry and our sons spent much of the first half of the year near the coast, touring the coastal defences and watching military manoeuvres. It was at one of these off Portsmouth that Henry’s favourite ship – the Mary Rose, named after Henry’s late sister Mary Duchess of Suffolk – sunk. It destroyed the morale of all those watching it and I feared that France would take advantage of this and invade. They did not. That summer was unpleasantly hot and still. Many sailors died and the French Admiral returned to Le Havre instead of engaging with us. England was safe for a time.</p><p>Henry’s thoughts turned from war back to family. Young Edward was nearing eight and was still a delicate child. He was highly intelligent – his tutors praised him constantly – but the doctors said he was too fragile to engage in the male arts of jousting and fighting. I knew Henry compared him to our sons and grandsons – all of whom were more than Edward was. It frightened Henry but, I think, knowing that he had four more sons should anything happen to Edward was a great relief. It was not the case that if something happened to Edward then the dynasty would fall. Edward had been betrothed to Mary Stewart Queen of Scotland since July 1543 when she was just six months old. It was not a popular match on either side of the border for the English hated the Scots perhaps more than we did the French, while the Scots hated the English with the same passion and Henry had ordered Hertford – the elder Seymour brother – to lead raids into Scotland and sack Edinburgh in 1544. Somehow, the Scots had not broken the betrothal despite them refusing to hand the little Queen over to us to raise.</p><p>To my shame, I had been unable to convince Henry to betroth Catherine’s daughter Mary to anyone. Henry said it was because she was illegitimate and that she could not marry a foreign Prince for they may take it as an insult. I was sure it was because Henry did not want to risk Mary’s husband claiming the throne on her behalf. That would never happen for, even if the Emperor did not like my sons being ahead of Mary in the line of succession, they were grown men with children of their own. Who would support a woman over them? But Henry was paranoid, and Mary was forced to live her days as a spinster aunt. Ceci and Anne constantly had her with one of them for they wished that Mary may feel at home and have some happiness. </p><p>I saw a decline in Henry after the French campaign. His leg pained him more and he put on even more weight – to the point that he had to be moved everywhere in a chair by Yeoman Warders. His temper deteriorated until not even I was safe from it. Whenever Edward would visit and excitedly exclaim about the latest bit of Latin or Greek or French he had learnt, Henry would berate him about being weak and not good enough to be king. After this Edward would always make his way to my chambers where I would be waiting with some sweetmeats and a comforting hug. </p><p>Christmas 1546 was a special one. All the children and their spouses and children were at court – numbering over 50 by now – and we celebrated as much as we could. Henry rarely left his chambers for he was too vain to allow most of the Court to see him. Edward attempted to fill in, but he was still too young – although he was old for his years – so Richard would assist often. On New Year’s Day when everyone was gathered to present their gifts to us it was Richard who stood in for Henry – thanking everyone and assuring them that their well wishes would be passed onto Henry. I was so proud of him. He might have been thirty-four, but he was still my precious eldest son.</p><p>Henry continued to deteriorate and, by the end of January 1547, even he admitted to me that he doubted he would live much longer. Edward was just nine and would require a Regent for the next six years. Edward Seymour Earl of Hertford – Jane Seymour’s eldest brother – was swaggering round Court for he believed that he would be the one appointed as Regent – after all, he was heard to say, he was the Prince of Wales’ uncle and trueborn. It was a ridiculous suggestion for Hertford – other than being an arrogant prig – was not royal and only Edward’s uncle. I was the Queen and Edward’s stepmother while Richard was his half-brother and heir. </p><p>I was summoned to Henry’s bedchamber late afternoon of the 27th January to find Henry laying against the pillows, pale and weak, being attended by Archbishop Cranmer (to whom I send a vicious glare for I still blamed him for the Reformation).</p><p>“Cecily.” Henry croaked, attempting to wave Cranmer away to give us privacy but too weak to lift his arm.</p><p>“Oh Henry.” I carefully placed myself on the bed next to him.</p><p>I had not seen Henry since Twelfth Night for he had secluded himself from all the family since then. I knew that this would be the last time I would see the man who had had such an impact on my life. I sat there for hours, just holding Henry’s hand for speaking was difficult for him and we had no need to speak for we knew each other too well.</p><p>It was just past midnight that Henry stirred from his restless sleep and motioned towards the door. I got up, smoothing the bedcovers as I did so, and opened the door for the members of the Privy Council – Richard and John among them. I resumed my place on Henry’s bed with Richard and John standing next to me as befitted the King’s children.</p><p>“Cromwell, bring it.” Henry gasped out, ignoring my offering a goblet of wine.</p><p>Cromwell bowed low and removed a document from his pouch. At Henry’s nod he read through it. It was Henry’s last instructions on the formation of a Council to govern in Edward’s place – with Richard at the head. Hertford went red with rage but had enough sense to keep his thoughts to himself. I could almost hear his teeth grinding from where I was sitting. </p><p>The Councillors all put their signatures to it in agreement. It was done – my Richard would be Lord Protector while Edward was still young. Looking around I saw some uneasy faces and tried to put them out of my mind however I knew what they were thinking – the last time England had a Lord Protector was Grandfather and we all know how that ended. My Richard held his name, image, and lineage. I could not blame them for the worry even if I did not like it.</p><p>As soon as John had signed, I had sent him to collect the rest of the family – providing they were over the age of ten for I knew that Henry would not want them to see him like this. Shortly after the last signatory he slipped back into the chamber with a nod. None of my children had been to bed, instead they had been waiting with the children in Richard’s chambers for my summons.</p><p>I leant over to Henry to tell him this for it was ultimately up to him whether they would be allowed entry. Slowly, and with much effort, he nodded. I stood.</p><p>“Gentlemen, I am sure that you are all tired and wish to be abed at this hour. Your Grace,” I turned to address Cranmer, “if you would wait outside so you may…” I trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.</p><p>It seemed that the Councillors would argue but, after taking a look at Richard and John who were flanking me with harsh glares, silently bowed and left. The family piled in quickly, all struggling to mask their reactions to Henry’s state. Even with the under-ten’s being excluded, my heart soared at the size of the gathering. </p><p>At least Henry would be surrounded by his large family rather than the wolves of the court.</p><p>Perhaps sensing the family being there – and there were twenty-two of them, not including myself – Henry stilled. Mary, being closest to the door, hastily summoned Cranmer back in, ignoring the Councillors who were still hovering there.</p><p>Cranmer was able to give Henry the Last Rites and he died just after one in the morning of 28th January 1547 – his father’s ninetieth birthday.</p><p>He had been the most important man in my life for over thirty-seven years and despite the heartbreak he put me through I loved him with every fibre of my being. He had taken me from Mistress Cecily Gloucester – a nobody who had the misfortune of having very treasonous ancestry – to his Mistress-en-Titre, to Her Grace Cecily Duchess of Gloucester and mother of ten (even if only seven survived) Fitzroys, to Her Majesty Cecily Queen of England (and France and Ireland if one wished to be pedantic). Now I was Her Majesty Cecily Dowager Queen of England and stepmother to the new nine-year old king, Edward the Sixth of His Name.</p><p>The King is Dead, Long Live the King.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 1547-1552</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I left Richard and John to inform the Privy Council. I could not bring myself to leave Henry’s side despite him not being there anymore. It was only after Ceci and Kate near dragged me out that I finally allowed myself to leave Henry’s side. I exited his bedchambers to find Edward Seymour Earl of Hertford counteracting all Richard’s orders. </p><p>“What is going on?” My voice cut through the cacophony, startling everyone into silence.</p><p>“Lord Hertford is of the opinion that he is my brother the King’s Lord Protector rather than myself. He believes that I am unable to make decisions regarding the King and that, by abiding by my late father’s wishes, I am a traitor to the King.” Richard replied, keeping his voice level although his fury was evident. </p><p>“He is not only a bastard but if something happens to my nephew then he will be king. How many here would be surprised if our king went missing like King Edward and Prince Richard? How long before the Duke becomes the King?”</p><p>“You forget yourself Lord Hertford” I thundered, “You are the King’s uncle, yes, but you are only that because your late sister caught my husband’s eye during his difficulties with the Lady Elizabeth’s mother. You are not royal and you have no place being Lord Protector. That is for the nearest male royal to the King. That is my son the Duke of York – not you Lord Hertford. Furthermore, my children are not bastards – they were legitimized and placed in the line of succession by my late husband when we married. Leave ruling to those who were born to it.”</p><p>With that I left and retreated to my chambers to mourn in private, trusting Richard and John to keep the country level. They ordered that Edward be brought from Hatfield with my grandchildren who were currently living with him. They were not to be informed of the reasons for Richard wanted them to be with family when Edward was told he was the new king. They arrived just two days after Henry’s death and were escorted to my chambers where Richard sat Edward down and told him. Edward and the others broke down in tears and were consoled by the multitude of adults gathered. Edward clung to me, tears streaming down his face and soaking into my bodice, refusing to let me go until his tears had dried up and sobs reduced to hiccups. Kate took Edward from me then and, along with Ceci and my other daughters and daughters-in-law, escorted Edward and the other children out. I was left with my sons and sons-in-law, seated at the table and looking at me expectantly.</p><p>“What are you going to do?” Tom asked, leaning forward and pouring some wine which he gulped down quickly before reaching for another. Of all my children, Tom was the fondest of wine and women – taking after Henry too much. Although, with Anne de Vere as his wife I could not blame him too much as she really was a shrew. They had been married nine years and only had two children – Cecily and Mary – both within the first three years. Despite his proclivities, he was astute and well able to keep up with the debates Richard and John so loved to engage in. </p><p>“There is not much that can be done.” Francis Hastings, Ceci’s husband, put in, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly.</p><p>“As much as I hate to admit it, Hertford is Edward’s uncle. We cannot get rid of him without reason.” John sighed, shuffling some papers.</p><p>“Damn shame.” My second daughter Anne’s husband, Henry Clifford, added, thumping his hand on the table causing Tom to reach for the wine to steady it.</p><p>“And his words after Father’s death are not reason enough?” Harry asked, exchanging glances with Kat’s husband Francis Russell. They were ten years younger than Henry Clifford (the next youngest) and often felt out of place among the others – all of whom were established men with families and powerful positions within court. </p><p>“Enough to get him banished yes, however in doing that would allow him to propagate his idea of me snatching power for myself. Leave him and his claims are refuted.” Richard said.</p><p>“He cannot be left to continue. It endangers all of us.” Tom pointed out.</p><p>“And if he should be caught plotting to overthrow you and take your place?” Francis Hastings asked slyly.</p><p>“Then he shall discover how I survived,” I broke in before any of the men could say anything, “And how power is really wielded.”</p><p>With a tentative plan in place they dispersed, leaving me in peace. Edward Seymour – and his brother Sir Thomas – would rue the day they decided they were better than I was. Francis Hastings had soon bribed some of the servants assigned to the Seymour’s as well as one of the Countess of Hertford’s ladies. He also got his brother-in-law Sir Richard Devereux and youngest brother William to mutter their discontent with Richard and hence fall in with Hertford. Unfortunately, Hertford was intelligent and did not trust Richard Devereux and William Hastings for their connection with Francis Hastings, and so it took some months before Hertford let any of his plans slip. He encouraged his brother to attempt to kidnap Edward during the night. It was only due to Richard Devereux that we became aware of this and increased security around Edward who constantly asked why he was being guarded by more guards and why we looked worried. It was my decision to not tell him for he was just ten and too young to have to deal with the ruthless politics of the court.</p><p>Thomas Seymour was caught with a loaded pistol just inside the door to Edward’s chambers after he killed one of Edward’s pet spaniels one night in mid-January 1548. Idiotically he had a letter from Hertford authorising his attempt. The noise of the pistol killing the spaniel woke both Edward and myself, for I still occupied the Queen’s chambers, and I rushed into his chambers. Edward was standing in the doorway shaking and I gathered him up in my arms, yelling at the guards to fetch Richard, John, Tom, Francis Hastings, and Henry Clifford. This they did with incredible urgency and, by the time I had settled Edward back in his bed, the men had arrived. John read through the letter, his eyebrows raising as he went.</p><p>“I think we have enough.” He commented, handing it to Francis, Richard looking over his shoulder.</p><p>“Francis, take guards and arrest Hertford. Tom, go with him and take Seymour with you. They will be residing in the Tower for the foreseeable future.” Richard ordered.</p><p>Thomas Seymour was dragged out screaming while Francis and Tom took a contingent of guards to arrest Edward Seymour who had the sense to go quietly. Not seeing the point of rousing the Privy Council past midnight, we waited until the next morning. Pale-faced men entered the Council chamber that morning for everyone had heard of the attempt on Edward by the Seymour’s. Richard was seated stony-faced at the head of the table, flanked by myself and John with my other sons and sons-in-laws around us. None of the Councillors dared to argue when Richard pronounced that the Seymour brothers were to be tried for treason as soon as a court could be convened. The date was set for three weeks later.</p><p>Hertford was silent throughout his trial, refusing to speak in his defence for he knew that there was no getting out of his situation. Thomas Seymour, on the other hand, was raving about Richard and myself and how his poor nephew was being side-lined as we took power and if something was not done then Edward would never become a true king. The verdict was inevitable. Both Seymour’s were found guilty of treason and condemned to death. Richard graciously commuted the sentence from the usual of being hung, drawn, and quartered, to a simple beheading. They were executed together on 22nd February 1548. Not many mourned them.</p><p>Having dealt with the danger of the Seymour’s, I felt that I could take a step back from the court politics and started to contemplate a quiet retirement in the north which my heart still longed for. Richard and Kate were approaching their thirty-sixth birthday and beyond prepared to be the leading couple of the court. Kate had just announced she was pregnant for the thirteenth time when I left for Pontefract after Easter so I promised to return to Court in time for that however a summer fever swept through Pontefract. I caught it and was laid low for weeks. Unfortunately, by the time I was sufficiently recovered the news had been brought by an exhausted messenger that Kate had been successfully delivered of her thirteenth child (although only eight were still living) which they had called Margaret. Six days later another messenger appeared at the gates bearing more news. Kate had contracted childbed fever and not recovered from it. She had died early morning of 5th September with Richard, their children (Kitty who was nineteen, Dickon at eighteen, Maud at sixteen, Henry eleven, Thomas eight, Francis seven, Cecily (named after her elder sister who had died aged three) five, and new-born Margaret), and Kate’s brother (her sister Anne Countess of Pembroke had died six months previously) William Marquess of Northampton (married to Elizabeth Brooke) at her bedside.</p><p>Richard was distraught for he had spent over half his life with her in a very happy marriage. She was his other half and often advised him on decisions. As soon as I was able, I left for Hampton Court to be with my grieving family. I spent six months at court consoling Richard and his children and generally holding the family together. Kate had been a levelling presence among the hot-headed men of the family but John’s wife Katherine Pole (daughter of my father’s cousin Lady Margaret Pole) stepped up admirably although she was never particularly able to fully stop Richard like Kate had. She did her best and I thought myself able to leave them and go back to retirement again.</p><p>The next four years passed quietly. I returned to Court only for Christmas but all of the family except Edward (being the King and of rather delicate composition, in fact he had suffered multiple bouts of illness which had frightened the Privy Councillors for they feared that he may die) and Richard (as Lord Protector he could not really leave Court) would visit me so I always had at least one family member at my residence at all times. Mary would bring Richard and Kate’s children with her when she visited for, being a spinster, she had taken charge of them when Richard was unable. It was a lovely way to spend my last years.</p><p>And now my time is drawing near. I am back at Bedale for I liked the symbolism of dying where I was born, especially as it was in near opposite states – born the fourth daughter of the bastard son of the reviled Richard Duke of Gloucester and died the Dowager Queen of England and Duchess of Gloucester. Edward is unable to be here for he was too ill to make the journey but Richard had left Francis Hastings at Court to be with me. It was a large gathering – Richard with Kitty, Dickon, Maud, Henry, Thomas, Francis, Cecily, and Margaret; Ceci with Frances, Henry, William, George, Edward, Cecily, Walter, Elizabeth, Anne, and Francis; John with Katherine Pole and Margaret, John, Katherine, Cecily, Richard, Edward, and George; Mary; Tom with Cecily and Mary; Anne with Henry Clifford and Margaret, Henry, George, and Anne; Kat with Francis Russell and Anne, Henry, John, and Francis; Henry with Jane Howard and Jane; and Elizabeth. </p><p>My legacy – and that of my Grandfather – is secure. It is 2nd October 1552 – a century after Grandfather’s birth. My life has always been intertwined with his – born ten years after his death and now I am dying one hundred after his birth. </p><p>I am content.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Epilogue</h2></a>
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    <p>Edward VI died on 6th July 1553 of consumption (TB) aged just fifteen and Richard Duke of York and Gloucester became King Richard IV. </p><p>Richard IV ruled for thirty-two years during which England established itself on the world stage as a leading trading country as well as the mediator of Europe and is remembered to this day as ‘Good King Richard’. He died at the age of seventy-two on 22nd August 1585 much to the amusement of his eldest daughter Katherine (Kitty), the Dowager Holy Roman Empress, who wrote to her youngest sister Margaret Lady Percy that their Grandmother Cecily would have been in hysterics for she had always said Richard IV was connected to Richard III – born sixty years after him and dying a century after him to the day.</p><p>Cecily Hastings Countess of Huntingdon died aged fifty-one on 9th March 1565. Her husband Francis Hastings 2nd Earl of Huntingdon died three years previously in 1561. They left eleven surviving children.</p><p>John Duke of Somerset died aged thirty-nine on 25th September 1554. His wife Katherine Duchess of Somerset lived a further twenty-two years, dying in 1576. They left seven surviving children.</p><p>Lady Mary Tudor never married and devoted herself to helping raise her many nieces and nephews as well as her sister Elizabeth. She died aged forty-two on 17th November 1558.</p><p>Thomas Duke of Richmond died aged seventy-five on 14th August 1591. He had been separated from his wife Anne Duchess of Richmond since 1550 (who died in 1572). He remarried his widowed sister-in-law Anne Countess of Nottingham in 1574. Both his daughters predeceased him.</p><p>Anne Clifford Countess of Cumberland died in childbirth on 29th June 1553 aged thirty-four. Her husband Henry Clifford 2nd Earl of Cumberland remarried two years later and died in 1570. Her three sons died within a year of her death but her two daughters survived.</p><p>Katherine Russell Countess of Bedford died aged seventy on 5th February 1575. Her husband Francis Russell 2nd Earl of Bedford died in 1585. They had six surviving children.</p><p>Henry Earl of Nottingham died forty-five on 5th November 1572. His wife Anne Countess of Nottingham remarried his brother Thomas Duke of Richmond in 1574. He had five surviving children.</p><p>Elizabeth married Robert Dudley 1st Earl of Leicester in 1563 and they had two daughters. She died 24th March 1603 aged sixty-nine. He died in 1588.</p><p>The House of Gloucester ruled England until 1714 when they inherited Scotland as well after the Protestant Stuart line died out (The 1701 Act of Succession required the Scottish heir to be Protestant after King James VII was overthrown for being a Catholic and both his daughters (Mary II and Anne) died without issue, leaving the throne to his Catholic son. The nearest Protestant on the Stuart tree was Queen Elizabeth I of England – the granddaughter of Richard VI (the great-grandson of Richard IV) and Queen Elizabeth, the daughter of James VI of Scotland). Queen Elizabeth I united England and Scotland into the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland (later becoming United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland after the Republic of Ireland gained independence). They rule the UK until this day.</p>
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